I don't know if you've realized this, but I have been devoting the last few blog posts to only discussing the animals we are caring for at the moment. In case you missed the thrilling saga, you can read all about The Teenager, and Jony the little pony, and Maxi aka Sporty Spice, and Flore the French lady.
If you don't really care for animals, well maybe come back later. Like, on Wednesday.
"He's of the colour of the nutmeg. And of the heat of the ginger.... he is pure air and fire; and the dull elements of earth and water never appear in him, but only in patient stillness while his rider mounts him; he is indeed a horse, and all other jades you may call beasts." ~William Shakespeare
William Shakespeare is to literature what Katy Perry will never be to music: ageless and relevant.
Bop along to "California Girls" all you want this summer (it's a catchy beat), but I'm going to place a Vegas bet that song finds its way off your iPod within the year, never to return.
The reason old Will is still pertinent is because his words on human nature still ring as straight and true as a hammer striking a nail, and for the love of the mighty equine, his poetry is especially crisp.
Though I think after these past four days of animal blogging, this little quote is what you are all probably sighing at your computer screen:
"He doth nothing but talk of his horse."
- William Shakespeare, Merchant of Venice
Well Portia! Perhaps the Neopolitan prince really likes his horse, and if he cares for you in the same manner as his horse you'd be one well looked after lady, ever think of that?
And what if the prince's horse looked like this?
Could you really blame him for talking about her all the time?
I thought not!
As the above picture implies, Orania Z is a curious and photogenic lady.
I'm ready for my close-up
Just like her little buddy Jony, Orania Z is always happiest to see me first thing in the morning. In fact, she kicks her food bucket, so overjoyed is she with my presence. And that's why you've really got to love animals, because I don't know of another creature on earth who would be happy to see some bleary eyed monster lurching towards them at 7 a.m. with a raging case of bed-head.
My defenses are always a little down in the morning, and I suspect Orania Z has caught on to this. All it takes is one little warm whoof of her muzzle in my ear, and I give her just a touch more oats than I'm supposed to. Nothing major, just a few extra for love.
Feed us. Feed us. Feed us. Feed us. Feed us.
In fact, looking after these animals these two weeks has taught me something about myself: I have a desperate need to be liked by animals!
People who don't like me *shrug* I could care less. You don't like me, well there's probably something I don't like about you too. C'est la vie and all that jazz.
(Flore, the natural blonde lab who speaks French, taught me to say c'est la vie)
But animals, nope I must be liked by animals. Why is this? Any Freudians out there who care to weigh in on this aspect of my psyche.
Anyhow, I am feeling incredibly gratified to know that Orania Z and Jony LIKE me. I think it has something to do with my pockets always being stuffed with treats, but WHO CARES! They knicker like crazy when they see me coming, and when they're out in the field and I'm out for a walk, they trot the fence line beside me until I pass them by. When I look back, usually they're still staring after me.
I'M LIKED! BY HORSES WHO WERE TOTAL STRANGERS TEN DAYS AGO! MY LIFE IS COMPLETE!
But you know what also completes my life, seeing Orania Z in action.
She is fiesty, especially when she's just released into the field.
Freedom! Sweet freedom!
Tail in the wind, and hooves beat the ground. Horse.
Nope, don't want to go this way.
This way instead.
Just like Jony, when Orania Z has kicked up the dust and danced until she can dance no more, she settles down to enjoy the tender spears of green grass.
Apart from the arch of their neck, their high trot, unruly manes, and the masterful royal toss of shapely heads, what I love most about the horse is that deep down, no matter who claims to have 'broke' them, in their heart of the hearts the horse will forever hold onto a wildness that can't be tamed.